Umbrella
by DoctorPerky
Summary: An umbrella, though rarely used these days, remains steadfastly in want of some showers.


_Was Katsura really on standby during the Weather Arc?_

Gintama is owned by Hideaki Sorachi; this fiction is purely for entertainment purposes. *w*

* * *

Katsura takes refuge with Ikumatsu in her loft above the _Hokutoshinken_. To the two of them, this is simply another occasional evening spent in her plain apartment.

This time, however, the rain is actually falling.

For the past couple of days, Edo is reduced to a cold, windy, dark, and damp mess. Sleeting rain descends upon the roof of the widow's time-worn shop, tapping and rattling at the thin, rusted shingles. The storm creates white noise that becomes a familiar and almost unnoticeable presence inside during the daytime, but during the night, this background noise intensifies.

And regardless of the rain, these days and nights pass by as they normally do. Her shop opens and closes, the customers come and go, and an umbrella, though rarely used these days, remains steadfastly by the door in want of some showers to drink from. The umbrella remains folded, yearning for the fulfillment of its purpose.

From within her chamber, Ikumatsu furtively indulges in her hobby of watching Katsura sleep. She sees within the man this quirky manner of resting; his peaceful way of sleeping yet being prepared at a moment's notice to take action has always intrigued her. Lying underneath her blanket, she turns to face the folding wall that divides her sleeping quarters from his. She couldn't see him all too well between the faint light that filtered through the window and the narrow opening in the wall, but she still liked to watch him sleep.

Whenever she'd feel her consciousness wane, she'd smile and think of when the two first met. The feelings those days evoke stir her enough to keep her awake slightly longer. She repeats this process until she begins to wonder if constantly reliving those days in her mind is healthy. These thoughts coupled with the calming white noise of the rainfall prompt her body to become carelessly relaxed.

The floating nature of sleep is quickly interrupted as an abrupt force thrusts into her chest. As a consequence of her springing upright at the sudden unnerving sensation, her blanket shifts aside and gently rattles the division. She gasps and, as a reflex, peeks in through the opening.

Nothing_._

Though her heart beats rapidly, she takes a deep breath, relieved to see that she didn't wake Katsura with her shuffling.

She leans further into the opening until her nose bumps into something warm. Initially confused by this sensation, she leans back and forward again until not only her nose, but her lips also meet another solid force in a confrontation that makes little sense.

After the second time she bumps into him, the mysterious figure spreads open the partition. Through the dim light she peers into his eyes. After all, his eyes are the only recognizable part of him that she could mentally grasp on to through this stormy evening.

"You couldn't sleep either, could you?"

It isn't that she couldn't sleep. No, it was simply a matter of her not wanting to sleep. The act of watching him sleep eases her restless mind. More importantly, the act of watching him sleep gave her a purpose. Since her husband's passing, Ikumatsu rarely had the opportunity and the desire to take care of people. She is content in her day-to-day routines, ones that didn't involve more than the customary courteous interaction between shopkeeper and customer. All of that complacency changes when, one evening, he staggers across the rooftops not in search of underwear, but rather shelter from the rain. One evening, she finds her purpose.

Katsura tilts his head slightly to the right. Her name flows from his mouth effortlessly as his attempt to snap her out of whatever daze she is in. She shakes her head.

"Ikumatsu-dono, are you feeling okay?"

She responds in affirmation with a smirk and a slight nod.

"Hmm, okay. Well, you should probably get some sleep. I won't bother you anymore-"

As he turns to crawl back underneath his blanket, she slips her fingers through the ends of his hair. "I have a question," she interjects.

He nods.

"Do you think the rain will stop soon?"

Without hesitation, he answers, "Sorry. I can't say. It seems even the weather lady is hopelessly optimistic about the rain letting up."

"Well, I..." She pauses, letting out a deep breath. "Listen. Should the rain never cease to fall, or the sun never fail to beat on your back, let me be your umbrella."

He stares vacantly at her, those words of hers catching him off guard for a moment; _women say rather crazy things when they're exhausted,_ he muses. He shifts his gaze toward the window, closes his eyes, and smiles. "Well, Ikumatsu-dono, I-"

Glancing down in the direction of her bed, he notes that she's sleeping soundly.

"...You couldn't wait for me to respond, could you?"

_Just as well_, he pensively sighs and throws himself underneath his own blanket. As earnest and sincere her words may be, if he didn't accept them in her conscious presence, his acceptance would be for naught, he figures. For now, he rolls over onto his side and watches her sleep. The more time he spends with his eyes fixed on that rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, the wider his smile becomes and, consequently, the heavier his eyes weigh.

"Goodnight, Ikumatsu-dono," he yawns.


End file.
